


Quiet Comes the Dawn

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Comedy, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-23
Updated: 2007-08-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 10:17:26
Rating: ExplicitMature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10784838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: The final book ends abruptly with many questions that must be answered before the brave new world created in the Epilogue can truly come to be. This is the story of our heroes 7th year as the dark night ends and the dawn of a new era approaches . . .





	Quiet Comes the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Quiet Comes the Dawn  
By Admiral J. Kirk McGill, SFC  
\--  
\--  
Dramatis Personae  
Harry James Potter, 17 – 7th Year Hogwarts Student and Quidditch Captain, Gryffindor House  
Hermione Jane Granger, 18 – 7th Year Hogwarts Student and Prefect, Gryffindor House  
Ronald Bilius Weasley, 18 – 7th Year Hogwarts Student and Prefect, Gryffindor House  
-  
-  
Prologue  
Friends  
-  
-  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Headmaster’s Office  
12 May, 1998  
3:08 A.M. BST  
-  
_Some friends play at friendship, but a true friend sticks closer than one’s nearest kin._  
Proverbs 18:24

  
Harry James Potter had never before realized that silence could be so deafening. As he limped down the spiral staircase from the Headmaster’s Office (which he privately believed had grown longer since he ascended mere minutes before), the only sound to be heard was the soft whisper of his breath in the narrow confines of the stairwell and his quiet footfalls on the narrow stone steps **,** but the lack of other ambient noise caused even these tiny sounds to jam into his pounding head like an ice pick.   
  
Above him, he knew, his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger still stood in shock from the evening’srapid series of events **,** which had at last overwhelmed even their tough constitutions. Yet the mind of young Mr. Potter lay not with his friends, but with a soft four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower and his own rumbling stomach, which was presently reminding him just how long it had been since he had last eaten with a sound that somehow managed simultaneously to resemble a freight train and a jumbo jet.   
  
Even the greatest of historians may never truly be able to pinpoint the exact moment in which an event branches out into divergent possibilities, all with different roads leading to different outcomes – especially because such events can be minuscule ripples in the great currents of time that appear innocuous, but are in reality earth-shattering in their importance.  
  
Unbeknownst to Harry, this was once such moment. As he prepared to lift his left foot off the final step and scramble over the remains of the gargoyle that had guarded the entrance for countless generations, he paused – we as the omniscient observer might notice the flurry of thoughts that occurred in Harry’s head during these few moment and organize them in our own minds, something like this: 

  
_‘What the hell am I doing?’ asked one mental voice.  
  
‘Um, getting a sandwich and going to bed,’ answered another, its hesitation apparent and sounding strangely like Ron being caught by Hermione trying to sneak away to play chess before he finished his potions homework.  
  
‘I just left my two best friends all alone up there without so much as a by-your-leave. For Merlin’s sake, less than an hour ago they thought I was dead and they can’t possibly have understood everything I tried to explain to them . . . I should go back.’  
  
‘Not to mention that they finally realized how much they enjoy snogging each other, and we wouldn’t want ickle Ronnie to embarrass himself with poor technique,’ said another voice that sounded suspiciously like Fred Weasley._  
  
Shoving aside that train of thought and trying to ignore the knife of pain that cut into his heart at the mere thought of Fred, Harry slowly put his foot back down on the step, turned, and made his way back up the stairs where he was sure that his adopted siblings waited for their brother to return.  
  
-  
  
Ron Weasley fancied himself a brave man, but there was one thing in the world that could frighten him more than giant spiders, and that thing was Hermione Jane Granger. As the hem of Harry’s robes disappeared down the spiral staircase and the door closed almost silently behind him, Ron turned to his other best friend (and the girl who he could no longer deny that he fancied) expecting to see an expression similar to his own – that is, total confusion.  
  
“What the hell was that all about, he’s just going to leave . . .” Ron exclaimed as he turned.  
  
But he was brought up short by the look of complete devastation on Hermione’s face, the kind of look a small child has when told that her pet has died.   
  
“Oh Ron,” Hermione cried as she flung herself at him.  
  
Off balance, Ron barely had time to catch himself on one of the tables that used to hold Professor Dumbledore’s many possessions and avoid tumbling to the floor. Unfortunately, a teenager’s sense of balance being what it is, he overcompensated, lost his footing, and fell with a crash to the unyielding wooden floor. And just when his brain had concluded that the worst was over, a shadow eclipsed the lamp overhead as Hermione, caught up in his fall, followed him to the deck.  
  
Ron had time for just one thought before Hermione landed squarely on his chest, and the words he used would no doubt have earned him a reprimand from his bushy haired friend and a Scourgify charm straight to the mouth from his mother. But all of this was forgotten as Hermione’s elbow stuck into his gut, and he felt all of the air rush out of his lungs in one giant gasp.  
  
In the tenths of seconds that followed, Ron’s mind absently contemplated how absurd it would be if Hermione’s small form crashing down upon him actually caused his death right there, after all they had lived through. Then his body caught up with his brain, and he realized that it might be a good idea to breathe before he really did suffocate on the spot.   
  
As he lifted his head from the floor and tried desperately to suck in a bit of air, his lips met those of Hermione, which were still subject to Newton’s Laws of Motion and, therefore, falling towards him with the rest of her upper-body.  
  
As their lips met for only the second time in memory, the need to breathe seemed to be a far off and fleeting fancy, much less important than Ron’s need to wrap his arms around the brown-eyed girl still completing her fall onto his body.  
  
Unfortunately, Weasley luck being what it is, Ron’s body once again expressed its need to breathe at the same moment that Hermione’s hair finally arrived at ground level – the result of which was his inhalation of what seemed like half of Hermione’s hair and the following choking fit that thoroughly destroyed the moment.  
  
-  
  
The scene had not changed when Harry pushed open the door to re-enter the room; but unfortunately, neither had Ron’s luck.  The heavy door struck him soundly on the side of his head **as** small songbirds burst over his now unseeing eyes. Surprised by the sudden halt of the door’s progress, Harry looked down to see what had impeded it, and saw his two best friends in what might be misconstrued as a compromising position, as Hermione stared up into his bright green eyes with a look similar to that of a deer facing down a truck on a lone Texas highway.  
  
Trying to ignore Fred’s triumphant cry of _‘I told you so’_ in his mind, Harry gazed down upon his friends as asked simply **,** “Do I want to know?”  
  
At this query, Hermione leapt off Ron as if she felt an electrical current run through his body and bolted to her feet, stepping squarely on a teenage male’s most sensitive area as she straightened herself.   
  
With Ron down and out for the count, she was forced to meet Harry’s eyes and try to force down the red blush creeping up her neck.  
  
“Harry **,** ” she whispered, and then louder **,** “this isn’t what it looks like.”  
  
“Really **?** ” Harry calmly responded, “And I suppose that I imagined that scene outside the Room of Requirement earlier . . . or were you exploring Ron’s mouth to prepare for Dental School **?** ”  
  
Hermione’s expression quickly changed from one of embarrassment, to shock, which was bypassed quite quickly on the way to anger before she noticed a disturbingly familiar twinkle in the bright green eyes of her friend.  
  
“Oh Harry,” she exclaimed, “don’t do that again, you nearly gave me a heart attack”.  
  
As she was about to leap forward and give Harry the hug she had longed to ever since Voldemort’s demise, a strained voice floated up from the floor between them.  
  
“Help”.  
  
-  
  
At Ron’s plaintive cry for assistance, Hermione knelt down next to him and quickly began apologizing. She examined him to see if Harry’s abrupt entrance had done any permanent damage, which resulted in her laying crosswise on him with her chest thrust unceremoniously in his face.  
  
“Ohronididn’tmeantofallonyouareyouokayohi’msuchanoaf **,** ” she said so fast that Harry was sure that she sprained something.  
  
“mione” gasped Ron, “have to breathe”.  
  
But then Ron opened his eyes and noticed the view literally in front of his nose.  
  
“Never mind, I can die happy now.”  
  
-  
  
Eventually, Hermione was satisfied that Ron was not in imminent danger and she scrambled back to her feet **,** at which point a smirkingHarry offered Ron a hand up.  
  
“Not a word,” said Ron vehemently as he dusted himself off, although he still could not quite rid himself of the silly grin caused by Hermione’s unintentional fulfillment of many a closely guarded fantasy.  
  
“I didn’t say a thing, mate.”  
  
“But you were thinking it, I could see it in your eyes” Ron accused.  
  
Harry and Hermione shared a look before they both burst out laughing.  
  
“Oh Ron, you always know just how to make both of us feel better”Hermione struggled to say through her laughter.   
  
Of course, this only served to cause Ron to blush even more so that his was now a color somewhere between a fire truck and an over-ripe tomato. Fortunately, Harry noticed his discomfort and took pity on his friend by quickly changing the subject.  
  
“Hey, how ‘bout them Cannons,” he remarked offhandedly in what he hoped was a passable American accent.  
  
This fairly pathetic attempt at misdirection caused a giggle from Hermione and a small smile from Ron, whose face was now moving away from ketchup and was currently somewhere between magenta and mauve.  
  
After he recovered his wits, Harry’s demeanor became much stiffer, and he looked very seriously at his friends.  
  
“I’m sorry I ran off like that, things were just a bit . . . overwhelming,” he said, sounding as if he had just committed a mortal sin.  
  
Surprisingly, it was Ron who stepped forward in an uncharacteristic display of affection and pulled Harry into a hug.  
  
“It’s okay, mate, I know I’d be out of sorts if I’d just killed Voldemort.”  
  
At this pronouncement, Harry pushed Ron away and looked into his face with awe.  
  
“Ron, you said his name,” said Harry in a shocked voice.  
  
With a small smile, Ron replied, “I guess I don’t see a reason to be afraid of the name of ole Moldyshorts now that he’s bought it.” 

  
With a queer look, as if she was struggling not to giggle, Hermione asked “Moldyshorts?”

  
“Yah, I lifted that one off Peeves’s little jingle earlier” said Ron, who also began to fight to keep his giggles from escaping.  
  
Harry, on the other hand, looked at his two friends as if they had completely lost their minds, and with a sigh said, “Why do I even put up with you two **?** ”  
  
Ron, with an arrogant smirk more suited to Draco Malfoy, shot back “ **It’s** because you love us **,** mate.”  
  
Ron expected to garner a laugh from his best mate, but to his surprise, Harry grew more solemn. In a quiet voice that was almost a whisper, while intensely studying the floorboards, he said, “You’re right Ron, it is because I love you,” and looking up at Hermione, “I love both of you . . . and,” now a tear made its lonely way down his cheek “the only reason that I’m here, alive, right now, is the two of you”.  
  
And in a completely un-Harry-like move, he stumbled forward and caught first Hermione, and then Ron in a tight hug, and began to cry.  
  
Ron looked over Harry’s bowed head at Hermione with a look of sheer terror on his face, but Hermione (who did not possess the emotional range of a teaspoon), simply pulled Harry closer to her and began to whisper comforts in his ear as Harry began to truly lose control of his tears. Ron quickly forgot his discomfort when he felt Harry’s sobs wrack his entire body, and he moved closer to his little brother and with his long arms held both his best friends as he joined them in their tears.  
  
-  
  
After what felt like hours, but could have been mere minutes, Harry straitened up his body and brushed the last vestiges of tears from his eyes.   
  
“Thank you **,** ” he whispered to both of them.  
  
Then he turned slowly away from them, making his way back towards the door.  
  
“Wait mate,” said Ron quickly, moving forwards to grasp his shoulder, “where do you think you’re going **?** ”  
  
“To bed?” Harry said, although it came out as a question.  
  
“But **,** Harry **,** ” interjected Hermione, “didn’t you come back here to tell us something **?** ”  
  
“Yes I did, but it can wait until morning . . . I’m sorry for interrupting”.  
  
But Ron wouldn’t let go. “In case you haven’t figured it out by now **,** Harry, you’re not going anywhere without us.”   
  
And with that, the tall redhead brushed past Harry and started down the stairs, trusting Hermione to make sure Harry followed. Seeing no choice, Harry followed him down the stairs, conscious of Hermione’s comforting presence above him as he tried not to fall over from exhaustion.   
  
At the bottom of the spiral staircase, Ron waited to help both of them over the sagging gargoyle and the three friends made their way slowly down the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower.  
  
-  
  
When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she was deep into a bottle of sherry, and not really paying much attention to the wider world. At a cough from Hermione however, she started, looked up, and said with a hiccup, “Oh, it’s you three.”  
  
At that moment, the trio realized that they had absolutely no idea what the password might be. When Ron voiced their problem however, the Fat Lady beamed at them and simply responded, “You will always be welcome here.” before swinging forward to allow them into the Common Room.  
  
As they entered the familiar room with its red and gold hangings and cheerfully lit laps, Hermione said worriedly, “What about the others downstairs? They might be worried about us.”   
  
Harry looked tiredly at her **.** “Are you a witch or not?” With a wave of his now restored phoenix feather wand and a quick mutter of _Expecto Patronum_ sent Prongs cantering out the now closing portrait hole.  
  
“I sent him to Mrs. Weasley **;** I told her not to worry, and that we would be spending the night here.”  
  
“Well then, I guess I’ll have to see you both in the morning,” said Hermione, and she started for the stairs to the girls **’** dormitories with a look to Ron that clearly said ‘take care of him . . . or else’.  
  
“Hermione, wait **,** ” said Harry. In a small voice he added, “Will both of you please stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”  
  
“Oh Harry **,** ” said Hermione, rushing over to him and embracing him once more **.** “Of course we’ll stay with you, won’t we Ron?” she asked with a look that promised agonizing pain if the redhead dared to contradict her.   
  
However, Ron needed no encouragement. He had intended to stay awake until Harry went to sleep in any case, and he confirmed his willingness to stay not with words to Harry, but with a quick _Engorgio_ directed at one of the couches, which expanded until it resembled a large bed instead. With a flick of her wand, Hermione added fluffy pillows and sheets and Harry allowed himself to be pulled over to it, his shoes, socks, and filthy outer robes removed, before Hermione gently tucked him into bed.  
  
“Thank you **,** ” he said once again, feeling as if you could not say it enough to them.  
  
“Did you expect anything else . . . brother?”   She looked down at him tenderly before kissing him gently on the forehead. Then, with another flick of her wand, she transfigured her equally filthy robes (the trip to the Chamber of Secrets had not helped matters) into clean nightclothes, and lay down beside the boy that was her brother in everything but blood. And everyone knew how much stock Hermione Granger put in blood.   
  
When Hermione lay down next to Harry and pulled him into a gentle embrace, Harry started and looked fearfully up at Ron, afraid to meet his blue eyes, but also afraid not to. He could not keep a look of surprise off his face when he saw only a look of calm acceptance on his friend’s freckled face.  
  
To his look, Ron replied **,** “If I can’t trust my little brother with the girl I fancy, who can I trust?” before he too stripped of his dirty clothes and lay down on Harry’s other side, gently wrapping his arms around Harry so that he and Hermione held the smaller boy snugly between them. With his adopted brother on one side, and his adopted sister on the other, Harry at last felt safe, and allowed himself to fall into slumber in the arms of his family, knowing that dawn would soon break upon a brave new world . . .


End file.
